I work in the marketing department for a Los Angeles-based streetwear clothing brand.

What’s cool is that the company is always sending me to high-profile events all over the world so that I can expand my celebrity network on their behalf. It’s a fairly straightforward job: I put our product on artists, troll their Instagram and Snapchat to get a good image of them wearing our shit, take a screen shot and send it to my boss for high praise and fanfare (okay, scrap that last part. It’s a thankless job, but it beats sitting behind a desk).

A few years ago, I went to the Sundance Film Festival to pester actors into wearing the brand’s products. I went in style. The company rented a huge chalet in Park City and sent me there early to get the lay of the land. I had the place to myself for three glorious days! In my excitement, I invited a super-cute junior sales girl to join me. Neena had a rockin’ body. She was 23, had brown, shoulder-length hair with blondish sun streaks — she was a tiny little thing at about 5'5", toned and tan, tight little body, amazing ass (thanks to her Latina mama), beautiful B-cup breasts, and little pokey nipples that seemed to be perpetually hard. She was based in Miami so we didn’t see each other often, and while we kept it professional, there was always this cool little sexual tension between us.

Much to my delight, she accepted my invitation and decided to fly in for 24 hours. The plan was for her to give me a day to get situated, fly in, hang out, and fly home a few hours before the rest of the team arrived. Stoked!

Now — let me back up. I am a chronic masturbator. I’m not a perv about it, but I like to give myself a good tug at least once a day to take the edge off. However, as fate would have it, I was running around a few days prior to my trip and couldn’t find any monkey time. And I was so busy at Sundance (getting blackout drunk and not watching movies), that my daily ritual escaped me there as well.

“I collapsed in a heap, embarrassed and forlorn. That’s when she whispered, ‘Is that all I get?’”

Fast forward to Neena’s arrival. I woke up late… hungover… and raced to the airport to pick her up. She looked amazing even though she was completely bundled up because it was cold as shit in Utah in the dead of winter. In the car, our flirting game was on point. She really let loose, telling me how excited she was to see me… how this was her naughty little adventure… and how she had gotten a Brazilian wax in anticipation of our secret tryst. I was so hard, I could barely concentrate on the road. But I had a problem. I was so backed up from a few days of accidental abstinence, that I was already dotting my drawers with pre-cum (or whatever that slimy shit is).

We got to the chalet and wasted no time… ripped off our clothes before we closed the front door. No foreplay, no nothing. Both of us butt-naked, on the first couch we saw… just mauling each other. She whispered, “I want you inside me.” I thought I was going to blow my load right then and there. Shit. I needed a distraction. Idea! I’ll go down on her, make her cum first, and I’ll be a hero!

I like to think of myself as a pussy connoisseur who is very capable of giving intense oral pleasures, but my game was all over the place that day. Perhaps it was because normally I give a girl head to get her off … inspired by the heat and passion of the moment. But this time, with Neena, I was just playing defense to buy my overloaded balls some extra time. I could hear her kind of moan half-heartedly as I did my best to please her… but I knew I was falling short. After a few minutes, Neena recoiled and said, “Are you finished down there or are you trying to lick my pussy off? Get up here and fuck me already.”

So I did. I slowly slid my rock-hard (and completely volatile) shaft into her tight, wet hole. I like to think that I lasted longer than three pumps (Hell — I’m just happy I made it in), but I burst inside her after about nine seconds, and couldn’t do a damn thing to hold it back. I collapsed in a heap, embarrassed and forlorn. That’s when she whispered, “So that’s all I get?”

The rest of her visit was super-awkward. It’s strange — I knew her well enough to fuck her, but not well enough to come clean about the series of events that lead to me being a huge let-down. I was humiliated, and she was over me thinking that I was either selfish, inadequate, or both. This made our future professional dealings a joy. Lesson learned: don’t dip your pen in company pussy.

Illustration by Jason Johnson